


The Perfect Tree

by mnwood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (weed), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Children, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Chubby Dean, Domestic Fluff, Fatherhood, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, POV Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2797580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnwood/pseuds/mnwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam doesn’t listen. He darts back and forth between two trees and giggles maniacally, and suddenly a man pops out from behind a tree across from him with a stern look on his face.</p><p>But then he smiles and says in that same voice, “I’m too old to chase you, kid.”</p><p>It takes Cas all of three seconds of survey before deciding that this man must be the owner of the Christmas tree lot. He’s got a yellow and brown flannel buttoned and tucked into his jeans, which sit comfortably under a large, round belly that will probably rival Santa’s in a few years. His beard is full and red and mountainy, and there are freckles all over his cheeks and nose. He only looks to be about 30, but he carries himself like a much older man.</p><p>“Sam. Come here, please,” Castiel says calmly, and within a moment Sam runs over and jumps into his arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Tree

“Sam. Sam? Buddy, wake up. We’re here.”

“Trees! We’re getting a tree.”

Castiel laughs and ruffles the child’s hair. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re doing. So glad you remembered.” 

As soon as his car seat is unbuckled, Sam runs toward the lot and disappears among the trees before Cas can even shut the door. He would be worried, except for the fact that the kid is really loud and easy to find. Even while he’s walking across the parking lot, Cas can see him zipping in and out between the trees, his curly black hair bouncing with his movements.

“Hey! Kid! Be careful! Where’s your mom?”

The man’s voice is so low and intense that Castiel hopes Sam straightens up and listens or else they might get kicked out of this place.

Sam doesn’t listen. He darts back and forth between two trees and giggles maniacally, and suddenly a man pops out from behind a tree across from him with a stern look on his face. 

But then he smiles and says in that same voice, “I’m too old to chase you, kid.”

It takes Cas all of three seconds of survey before deciding that this man must be the owner of the Christmas tree lot. He’s got a yellow and brown flannel buttoned and tucked into his jeans, which sit comfortably under a large, round belly that will probably rival Santa’s in a few years. His beard is full and red and _mountainy,_ and there are freckles all over his cheeks and nose. He only looks to be about 30, but he carries himself like a much older man.

“Sam. Come here, please,” Castiel says calmly, and within a moment Sam runs over and jumps into his arms.

“Name’s Sam?” the man asks, and for some reason he’s smiling.

“Yes.”

“My little brother’s named Sam. I’m Dean. What can I help you with today?”

“We want a tree!” Sam squeals.

Dean laughs, and Cas swears he can feel the rumble in the ground.

“I have to warn you, he’s a little picky. He’s going to want to look at every tree before he decides.”

Dean smiles softly to reveal flushed, round cheekbones. “Well then, we should get started.”

Cas looks around and sees that there are a lot of people here shopping for trees. “Sir, you really don’t have to help us. I can just come find you when he’s found his perfect tree.”

“Oh, Jesus, please don’t call me ‘sir.’ And c'mon, it’s my pleasure.”

Just as Castiel warned, Sam insists on inspecting every single tree and asking a million questions. If Dean is losing his patience, he doesn’t show it at all. He just squats down and gives the child his full attention, answering all of his questions in detail and not even trying to push him into wanting one of the more expensive trees. And when he stands back up every time, he cracks his knees and pulls his pants up under his gut. Castiel is mesmerized by his movements.

“Dean, we need you to help cut right now. We’re kind of backed up,” a tall woman with short hair says while Dean’s holding Sam up to inspect the top of a 10-foot tree (as if that would ever fit in their living room).

“OK, all right, I’m coming. Sammy here yet?”

“Yeah, you want me to send him over?" 

“Yeah. Thanks, Jody.” Dean adjusts Sam on his hip and looks at him seriously. “All right, buddy, my brother’s going to come take over for me. He’s not as handsome as me, but he’s got the same name as you so I think you’ll like him. That sound good?”

Sam stares at Dean’s face and then tugs his beard before answering, “OK, Mr. Dean.”

With Sam still on his hip, Dean turns to Cas and says, “Sorry, man. Duty calls.”

“No need to apologize, Dean. Thank you for your help.”

They smile at each other, and then Dean starts to walk off and apparently forgets that he’s still holding a child. He turns back around quickly and sets Sam down and laughs and apologizes in embarrassment. Then he hikes up his jeans one more time and heads toward the other end of the lot. Cas may or may not stare at his retreating figure a little too long.

“You must be the ‘tacky Christmas sweater guy with the small child Dean’s obsessed with,’” a tall man with a bright smile greets as soon as Dean’s gone.

Cas looks down at himself. He forgot he was wearing his thrift store sweater that’s two sizes too big and has pictures of Santa’s face all over it, each with different colored beards. “And you must be Sam.”

Sam shakes his hand and confirms his identity.

“I’m Sam, too!” The child runs right into Sam’s leg and looks up at him with wide eyes like he can’t believe how tall he is.

Sam immediately reaches down and scoops up the other Sam, and then it’s like Cas isn’t even there anymore as they go to look at trees.

Realizing that his presence is not required, Cas zones out as he watches Dean’s “little” brother. He’s tall and lean and clean-shaven, and Cas briefly wonders if his big brother’s been stealing food off his plate all their lives. He shows Sam the same amount of attention and affection that Dean did, and Cas can't decide if the kid really is that loveable to strangers or if Sam and Dean are just really good salesmen. Or maybe they just have really great hearts.

In any case, Cas can feel himself falling in love with this strange family. He hopes Sam still has a lot more trees to view before he decides which one he wants.

Sam and Dean switch again after an hour. Business is slowing down now that it’s dark, so when Cas sits on the curb and pulls out a pipe, he’s not surprised when Sam plops down next to him.

“That’s not weed, is it?” he asks blankly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his army jacket. 

“No.” Cas lights it up and puffs a few times. “Just tobacco. Why, you got weed?”

Sam laughs loudly. “No, but Dean might. I mean, he lives in the mountains after all.”

“Is it a stereotype for mountain men to smoke marijuana?” Cas offers the pipe to Sam and is actually surprised when he takes both it and the lighter and inhales deeply.

“Uh, yeah. At least in Asheville it is. And Boone.”

“Where’s the farm?”

“West Jefferson. It’s a couple hours from here.”

Cas takes the pipe back and sees Sam run out from behind a tree, Dean jogging close behind. “Do you live there, too?”

“No, I live here. I couldn’t imagine doing this year-round honestly. It’s fun working on holidays and helping people out and getting to see my family, but, uh, it’s a pretty lonely job for Dean." 

Dean scoops Sam up from behind and throws him up on his shoulders in one quick movement. Sam squeals and takes purchase on Dean’s ears.

“He’s pretty young to already have trees this big,” Cas comments. “How long’s he been doing it?”

“Well, he and I ran away from home when he was 16. So I guess 17 years.”

Cas wants to know more, but he doesn’t want to pry. So he smokes his pipe and allows Sam to change the subject. 

After a few more minutes, Sam announces, “I’m going to go check the last few people out and lock up. You good?”

“Oh, um, Sam and I can leave. If—if we need to.”

“No! No, you’re good. Please, stay.” He looks over at Dean and Sam with something in his eyes that Cas can’t read. “Dean’s having a blast.” 

Cas finishes smoking his pipe alone, staring at Dean and occasionally catching him looking back, too. 

He’s just about to get up and go join them when he sees Sam walk up, whisper something to Dean and then pick up the other Sam and disappear behind a tree. Dean turns toward Cas and starts walking. He pushes his shirtsleeves up over his forearms and takes a seat, his bowed legs spread out on the concrete in front of him.

“Aren’t you cold?” Cas asks, sounding more worried than he intended.

A laugh rumbles through Dean’s body. “I live in the mountains.” He pats his stomach a few times. “And I’ve got 40 pounds of warmth right here.” 

Cas blushes and tries not to stare. “I’m sorry for keeping you and your brother all day. My son is…persistent.”

“Sam’s your son? So you’re…”

“Divorced.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“I’m not. My husband was an asshole, and I got full custody.” Shit. He always says too much.

But Dean just laughs again and shakes his head.

“What?”

“Nothing. I, um, I’m just glad you’re into dudes.” Dean turns a very serious stare at Cas, and suddenly it feels a lot colder out here.

“Listen, Dean, your brother is very nice, but I don’t think he and I—”

“You kidding me? Sammy’s way too young for you. I’m talking about _me_. C’mon, dude, don’t think I haven’t noticed you checking me out all day.”

“I, uh, I…”

For the past four or so hours, Castiel’s been imagining how this would go. An unexpected kiss on the cheek as he’s buying a tree. Flirting quietly until one of them asks for the other’s number. Cas telling Dean he thinks he’s breathtaking and Dean brushing him off and Cas saying everything he can to convince him because in his experience that’s how it’s gone with people with similar body types as Dean.

But this? Blunt confidence that leaves Cas fumbling—this is unexpected.

“Looks like Sam’s ready to pick a tree. You got any more tobacco? I’d love to smoke with you,” Dean says casually as if he didn’t just hit on Cas five seconds ago.

“Um, Dean. I’m getting mixed signals.”

Dean scoots closer to him and takes the pipe and bag of tobacco. “You’re very cute, Cas, and so’s your kid." He packs the pipe and lights it up. "I’m in town for two more weeks. I’d like to get to know you both better.”

Their faces are turned toward each other and Cas can smell peppermint and tobacco on his breath. He really wants to know what that beard would feel like pressed up against his face. “May I steal one?”

Dean grins, and then his arm is wrapped around Cas’ hip and his lips are warm and plump under his facial hair, and this is exactly what Cas was hoping for. Without thinking, he drops a hand to Dean’s waist, untucks his shirts and sneaks his hand onto his warm belly. Come to think of it, everything about this man is warm and soft and inviting.

After way too long and indecent for a first kiss, Dean works his mouth down Cas’ jaw and onto his neck, and Cas tries not to laugh at how much that stupid beard is tickling him. “Dean.”

“Yeah?” he mumbles between kisses. 

“Do you like cake?”

“I like pie better.” 

“I’m going to make you a pie then.”

He bites down on Cas’ shoulder. “Just ‘cause I’m fat doesn’t mean you have to bake for me.”

“All right, but I own a bakery.”

Dean’s mouth stops moving, and then he slowly pulls back to look into Cas’ eyes. “How dare you keep that kind of information from a fat guy.”

“You just said—”

Dean kisses him to shut him up. “I lied,” he says against his mouth. “Call me a walking stereotype, but you just got ten times hotter.”

Cas moves his fingers along the underside of Dean’s stomach and traces a stretch mark so deep he can feel its shape. “I’m coming back tomorrow. With pie.”

 

 

Celebrating Christmas on December 26 isn’t so bad. Cas rolls over in bed and wraps the quilt tighter around himself. It’s too cold to reach out and grab the steaming mug of coffee waiting for him on the nightstand, and his own personal heater has gotten up already. It’s also not even 7 in the morning. It’s been a year, and he’s still not accustomed to this whole mountain life thing.

“Ho ho ho, merry Christmas! Let’s see, I need to check my list here to make sure you’re on the naughty side…”

“I’m nice! I promise. You said so yesterday.”

“Young man, I have just met you this morning. How could I possibly know if you are nice or not?”

Cas laughs and decides it’s probably best if he gets up. He throws on a sweatshirt over his Henley, and it’s incredibly warm and almost reaches his knees it’s so big. He takes his coffee and stumbles out into the living room, only to find that it looks nothing like it did yesterday.

There’s Christmas lights and paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling and an inflatable reindeer in the corner. The fireplace is on, and there are three full stockings hanging from the mantel. There are presents everywhere, and Cas is going to kill Santa if all of them are actually real.

He curls up in the recliner and decides not to interrupt as Santa tells Sam how good he’s been this year. Sam’s having none of his shit but knows he has to play along if he wants to open his presents before breakfast. He’s not even trying to pull on the fake beard, and Cas wonders if he only likes doing that to real beards. Or one beard in particular.

When Sam finally goes to open his presents, Santa winks at Cas before walking over to him and kneeling in front of the chair.

“I don’t even have to look at my list to know you’re on the naughty side,” he whispers, and Cas has to choke back a laugh.

“In that case, Mr. Claus, you are, too.”

Dean rolls his eyes and motions for Cas to get up. Then he takes his spot and pulls Cas onto his lap.

“You going to tell me what you want for Christmas?” Dean asks.

“It’s a little late for that now.”

“I don’t know, I can come up with a few ideas.” He rubs a hand down Cas’ inner thigh.

“Did you eat all the cookies I set out for you?” 

“Of course. I’ve been delivering presents to children for over 24 hours now, I need the sustenance.”

Cas turns so he can whisper into Dean’s ear. “After dinner with your family tonight, you’ll put that suit and beard back on, right?”

Dean squirms under Cas’ weight. “Only if you make more cookies.”

“Deal.”

“Merry Christmas, Cas. And happy anniversary.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [deancasheadcanons](http://deancasheadcanons.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, and [this is my website.](https://maddmadeshop.com/)
> 
> [Rebloggable link](http://deancasheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/105562082411/ao3-sam-sam-buddy-wake-up-were-here)


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